


Dikes of Courage

by enigmaticblue



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-16
Updated: 2012-05-16
Packaged: 2017-11-05 11:21:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/405830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fear is only natural; courage is extraordinary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dikes of Courage

_“We must build dikes of courage to hold back the flood of fear.”_ ~Martin Luther King, Jr.

 

**1.**

 

“It’s only natural to be nervous, Chief,” Jim says. “I know you haven’t handled a lot of weapons.”

 

Blair eyes the gun with distaste. “I’m not nervous.”

 

“Scared then.” Jim gives Blair a knowing look and taps his ear. “Your heart’s going a mile a minute.”

 

“I don’t like guns,” Blair confesses, and then manages a smile. “I’d rather stick with vending machines and flare guns.”

 

Jim returns the smile. “And normally, I wouldn’t insist, but after the train, and the drug dealers next door, and now Lash, I need to know you can handle a gun. I hope you never have to use it, but I _need_ to know you can.”

 

Blair swallows his anxiety, hearing the of passion in Jim’s voice. He knows this is important to Jim, so he’ll learn.

 

And he’ll pray he never has to use it.

 

**2.**

 

Blair hates heights; he always has. There’s no trauma there, no precipitating event. He just _hates_ thinking he’s going to fall—he hates the idea of falling, the thought of the long drop and crashing into the ground.

 

And now Jim is shoving a parachute into his arms, and Blair has no idea what the fuck he’s doing, but there’s really no time to argue.

 

He’s _never_ wanted to jump out of a plane. In fact, it pretty much tops the list of things he never _wants_ to do.

 

But this is Simon, and someone has to back Jim up, and the last thing Blair wants is to disappoint Jim.

 

And if Jim can jump into a guerilla-infested jungle, so can Blair.

 

Falling is just as bad as Blair expects, but once he opens the chute, it’s not so bad.

 

Not that he’ll ever do it again.

 

**3.**

 

Blair puts up a good front, but he’s scared to death following Jim into the forest after Dawson Quinn, mostly because he knows Jim’s will find track Quinn down.

 

The thing is, Blair doesn’t know whether he’ll be any help, but he can’t let Jim go alone, and he can’t leave Simon out there, either.

 

He’s proud of how he keeps it together, though, and even though Jim jokes about him being a spineless goober, Blair knows he’s teasing. Jim gets this _look_ when he’s worried about Blair, even when he’s joking around, that tells Blair he cares—maybe that he cares a lot.

 

Blair mostly keeps his cool through the whole thing, in fact, right up until they have to airlift him out. He thinks he might have been able to stay calm during the flight, too, but the medics have already given him something for the pain, and he hollers for Jim because he’s a little high, and he’s freaked out, and he hates heights.

 

Luckily, the pain meds knock him out before the flight is over, and when Blair wakes up, he’s in a hospital room, and Jim is sitting next to his bed.

 

“I’m a spineless goober,” Blair mutters when he sees Jim’s stubbled face, and the dark shadows under his eyes.

 

Jim shakes his head. “Oh, I think you’ve got a spine of steel, Chief. I wouldn’t worry about that.”

 

And then Jim grabs his hand, and Blair smiles, grateful for Jim’s reassurance, and his presence, knowing that he hasn’t let Jim down.

 

**4.**

 

Blair hopes that Jim will never know how much it cost Blair to yell at him when he’s grieving Incacha’s death. He half-expects Jim to punch him in the face, but he doesn’t. Instead, Jim’s senses come back online, and he solves the case and acts much like he always does.

 

There’s no time to think of his own terror. He has no idea what Incacha had meant by “passing the way of the shaman” to Blair, and he doesn’t feel like he can ask Jim, not now, maybe not ever.

 

He just has to muddle through, that’s all. Maybe, later, it will become clear.

 

**5.**

 

When Jim is trapped behind the walls of Starkville, Blair’s worry is a living, tangible thing, his fear a constant companion. He’s supposed to be the guide; he’s supposed to have Jim’s back, but that’s impossible while they’re separated by cinderblocks and barbed wire.

 

He can’t be scared, though; he doesn’t have the _right_ to be scared, when it’s Jim’s life on the line. Blair has to keep it together; that’s the deal. That’s the way things work.

 

Afterward, after he gets Jim home and chivvies him into the shower to wash off the dregs of the last few days, he takes a few deep breaths, trying to keep a tight rein on his emotions.

 

They’re home, and they’re as safe as they can be in the loft, and Blair is just feeling the after-effects of the adrenalin-surge. That doesn’t matter, though— _he_ doesn’t matter. He just has to get Jim settled, and then he can quietly fall apart for a little while.

 

Jim emerges from the bathroom clad only in a towel, looking a little more at ease. “Thanks, Chief,” he says quietly.

 

“What did I do?” Blair asks bitterly. “I should have pulled you out a lot sooner.”

 

“I know you did your best,” Jim says, and he’s got the same gentle expression he wears when Blair’s hurt, which is just _wrong_ , because it’s Jim who’s been hurt. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

 

Blair’s eyes drift to the bruises emerging on Jim’s torso and face. “No, you’re not. But thanks for trying.”

 

“I got beat up some, but I’ve had worse,” Jim insists, stepping closer to Blair and touching his cheek, and Blair sees that he’s calmer now, a little of the wildness having left his eyes. “You would have pulled me out if you’d known.”

 

“I didn’t get your note,” Blair replies. “I _didn’t_.”

 

“I know,” Jim says, his tone curiously gentle. “None of this is your fault.”

 

“I should have _been_ there,” Blair protests.

 

Jim runs a hand over Blair’s hair. “I slept better knowing you weren’t.”

 

And that’s one of the things that Blair’s afraid of—that it will someday be easier for Blair to be on the outside, completely divorced from police work.

 

It’s a fear that Blair will have to live with.

 

**6.**

 

He deliberately sits by the fountain the day after he returns to work at Rainier. He _has_ to. He needs to conquer this fear.

 

It works, mostly. He doesn’t tell Jim. He just eats his lunch out there when he can, when he’s on campus and isn’t meeting with students or other professors.

 

Some days, he doesn’t mind at all. Most days, he chokes down his lunch past the lump in his throat.

 

Blair doesn’t tell Jim about any of that, though. He just deals as best he can.

 

**7.**

 

He worries that he’s losing his best friend. Jim has been distant lately, prickly and hard to live with. On one hand, Blair feels as though he should have brought that up with Jim; on the other, Blair fears what Jim might say if he pushes the matter.

 

In the end, after running after Jim to Clayton Falls with Simon, Blair ends up getting sick, completely incapable of helping, even a little bit. And even though Blair wants to stick with him, it’s clear that Jim doesn’t want him around.

 

He thinks about leaving Cascade after that. He could find another spot at another university. No one would blame him; Jim might even prefer it some days.

 

But Blair knows it’s the fear talking. It would be easier to leave, and so he has to stay—at least until he can’t.

 

**8.**

 

He’s too numb after the press conference to register much of anything. He’s just going through the motions, trying to right the wrongs he’s done.

 

Even now, when it’s all over, when Zeller is dead and Jim and Simon have offered him a badge, and Jim is limping around the loft, Blair has no idea what he could have done differently to have stopped the whole mess.

 

He still feels helpless, and he doesn’t like it a bit.

 

All Blair knows is that he can’t risk Jim being so disappointed in him again, and that’s inevitable if he takes the badge.

 

Jim limps into Blair’s bedroom and settles down next to him on the futon. “You okay?”

 

Blair shakes his head. “I can’t accept the badge.”

 

Jim lets out a breath, and he looks disappointed, but he nods. “Okay. If you don’t want to be a cop, we’ll figure something else out.”

 

“It’s not that I don’t want to be a cop,” Blair protests immediately, finding that he _does_ want it even as the words leave his mouth. “I just—I don’t think I can _do_ it.”

 

“Is this about carrying a gun?” Jim asks. “Because I can promise to do all the shooting.” His half-smile tells Blair that he isn’t completely serious.

 

“No, man,” Blair says. “I mean, yeah, that worries me, but I think I could handle that.”

 

“All right, so you want to be a cop, and carrying a gun doesn’t scare you,” Jim summarizes. “Then what’s the problem?”

 

“I can’t—I can’t disappoint you,” Blair admits. “What if I screw up? What if you get hurt? What if—”

 

Jim wraps a hand around the back of Blair’s neck. “Let’s get one thing straight, Sandburg: you’re _not_ going to disappoint me.”

 

“I already did,” Blair replies miserably. “If I hadn’t—”

 

“Don’t,” Jim says sharply. “We both screwed up, me more than you. I should have trusted you, and I didn’t. So,” Jim adds with a rueful, apologetic smile, “really, it’s me who should be worried about disappointing _you_.”

 

Blair blinks and reads the truth of that statement in Jim’s eyes—Jim is sorry and sad and weary, and he wears the same expression he had after Starkville, when Blair had felt it was all his fault, and Jim had been kind, even gentle.

 

And Blair thinks of all the times Jim has been angry, when the anger has been a mask for fear, how many times Jim has powered through because there were people depending on him. Because Jim, for all his flaws—and there are many—is a _sentinel_ , a protector, and maybe what _he_ fears most is letting people down, of failing them, and Blair can see trepidation in Jim’s expression, like he believes he’s let Blair down so badly they’ll never make it right.

 

 _We’re really not that different_ , Blair thinks, feeling a touch of wonder, and then he does the bravest thing he’s ever done, because if he’s wrong—if he fucks this up—he’ll lose everything.

 

Blair closes the distance between them, pressing his lips to Jim’s, flinging himself off the cliff before he can think better of it.

 

And it feels like falling for a moment, while Jim goes still as granite, and Blair thinks he’s done it this time, he’s ruined it all—

 

And then Jim’s mouth opens, and he’s kissing back, and _wow_ —and Blair is flying. He thinks, _So, this is what it feels like_ , and _Oh, my God, why didn’t I do this sooner?_

 

Jim breaks off, but not to protest. Instead, he twists them both so that he’s lying on the futon, with Blair sprawled out over him, Jim’s arms wrapped around Blair, and Blair buries his face in Jim’s neck, breathing hard.

 

“Be my partner,” Jim whispers. “Please.”

 

And Blair hears the unspoken _I need you_ , and he lets it go, because this is Jim, who is holding him as though he won’t let go until Blair says yes.

 

Blair decides that he’s made a habit of being brave, of defying the odds, and he’s never learned the art of saying no to Jim, not when it counts.

 

Besides, he _wants_ to; he wants to be Jim’s partner in every sense of the word. He always has.

 

So, it’s only natural that he says, “Yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Written for sentinel_thurs challenge #436, “it’s only natural.” As I wrote this, I realized how true this whole thing must have been of Blair—he was always conquering his fears. This story is only a brief exploration of that truth, not the be-all, end-all list. Someone else might choose different moments. They’re welcome to.


End file.
